


Underhill

by Yarrow (Effloresense)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Rare Pairings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effloresense/pseuds/Yarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The land of Faery can be bizarre and unpredictable in ways that don't follow the logic of home. But sometimes one must step outside the everyday world to learn something new about life and love.<br/>SPOILERS: Intervention, hints to end of season 5</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Road to Faery

That is the road to Heaven, my love,  
and that is the road to Hell,  
And that is the road to Faery,  
where you and I must dwell.  
from Thomas the Rhymer

Silent she sat in the treetops. This wasn't a normal patrol; those she were on hold for a while until she no longer thought of herself as cold and hard. Instead Glory's minions had been trailing her, rather obviously, and she was tired of it. She planned to get a jump on at least one of them when this vampire stumbled across her path. "Better than nothing. Anything to get my mind off…" She dropped and rolled, stake ready in hand. "There must be 5000 ways to die and each one ends the same way if you try." Dust fell around her hand. She looked at her stake and sighed, disappointed at yet another easy slay. "Because I know slaying's all the same in the end." Once again, she was alone in the forest. "Guess it's time to head home if none of them are going to be helpful."

Buffy turned back towards home through the forest again when a light flittered past her shoulder, dragging her gaze right. After 5 years of living in Sunnydale, Buffy knew pretty much every square inch that wasn't in peoples' homes. So the appearance of a rather large grassy hill where there hadn't been one previously was noteworthy. "Too big for a body or two. Maybe Giles will have a better idea." Giggling echoes swarmed around her in a dizzying crescendo before dropping off to silence again. Quickly she looked up to see the quarter moon lower in the sky. "What the… where did the last two hours go? Definitely Giles-ward. Here's hoping he hasn't gone to sleep yet." Turning on her heels, she strode toward her Watcher's home.

******

"So, do you think it could be Glory related?"

"It's possible, though it doesn't fit with anything else we've learned about Her. Can you tell me anything else about this hill? Are you sure it wasn't there before?"

"Positive. It's about two people tall, 25 yards wide or so, and it seemed fairly circular, though I didn't look around it. And it's in the middle of a forest. How weird is that?" She sipped her mocha.

Eyes focused past Buffy, Giles tucked his glasses between his lips as he thought. "Did you notice any of the trees around it, what they might be and all?"

"Do I look like a field guide to you? Sorry Giles, they were trees. Leaves, bark, green. But it was about a mile from the cemetery." His eyes still were still elsewhere and unfocused. She waved her hand in front of his face. "Ground control to Major Giles. You listening?"

He shook himself out of his reverie, replaced his glasses, and lifted his tea to his lips. "Hmm. Oh, yes. Mile from cemetery in the forest. I don't think it's necessarily connected. I'm sure this can wait until tomorrow to deal with."

A smile teased her lips. "You sure you're up to that? Seems like you were having a senior moment there for a minute."

Giles' eyes chilled at the implication, and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm only forty, Buffy, it's not like I'm going to need a cane and hearing aid in the next five minutes."

"Seven."

His hand dropped abruptly. "What?"

"Forty-seven, right? Giles, are you…"

He blinked. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. You're right. Forty-seven. Just tired is all." His hand ruffled his hair as he looked anywhere other than the young woman's face. "Look, we should both get what rest we can, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Concern welled up in Buffy, but Giles never opened up about himself. He only ever deflected the conversation. She ran her hands down her jeans a couple times to straighten them as she stood up. Buffy placed a small affectionate kiss on his forehead, his hand momentarily covering hers on his shoulder, before she walked towards the door. "I'm sorry, no more teasing about your age. Sleep well, Watcher-mine." He smiled wearily at her as she hesitated at the door. At the faint click behind her, she took a deep breath and then hiked toward home.

****

The trees of the forest glowed with their own halos as the sun sank toward the horizon on the other side of them. Giles stood before the hill in amazement. "Extraordinary," he mumbled. He hadn't seen many mounds like this outside of Britain, but the pattern was unmistakable, he decided as he circled the first time. The oaks surrounding the entire hill, the size, the faint sound of bells as he neared the hill. Excited, he circled a second time, his breath catching in his throat at the possibility of catching a glimpse Underhill after so long away. Caution melted away in the onslaught of memories and longing for a place that was almost less troublesome than current life. Suddenly a conspiracy of ravens leapt to the air, drawing Giles' attention away from the hill. The flight distracted him just long enough to lose the concentration needed for finding the gate.

"Damn," he muttered. "That was certainly unkind of you..."

"Unkind of who?" He spun to see Buffy standing between him and the sunset, the rays brilliantly catching random flyaway hairs. Her hands were clasped behind her leather duster, her head tilted slightly to her right in that curiously inquisitive way.

"Er, Buffy, I-I, that is, what are you..."

"Good to see you too. I see you found the hill, but I thought we'd check it out together, just to make sure."

He darted between looking at Buffy, the sun, and the hill. "I have a few thoughts of what it might be," he paused, just long enough for his longing to reassert itself. He had to find that gate. He only wanted, no needed, a glimpse anyway. "But, if I'm correct, there's only a few more minutes that I can check on it today, which means time is of the essence. Just follow behind me, stay close, and concentrate."

Buffy raised a single eyebrow, but after a moment shrugged, "Lead on."

Giles began again his clockwise navigation of the hill, his strides longer with the setting of the sun. As they started to tread the same path a second time, she began, "Uh, Giles, do you..."

His eyes never left the hillside as he waved his hand in irritation at her and interrupted, "Shh, Buffy. No distractions. Please concentrate."

Buffy quieted, but Giles could feel her fidgeting and impatient behind him. As they completed the third round, bells echoed in the air, the giggling started again. Giles stopped for a moment as Buffy pulled up beside him. Her breathing changed the way he found it did when she claimed "her spidey-sense was tingling." When something flew by her face she spun to face her foe and pushed Giles toward the hill. Her sudden movement surprised and threw Giles off balance; in an effort to correct, he grabbed blindly at her.

Together they fell; the sounds of hoof beats, rustling leaves, and laughter like bells were all he heard in the blinding flash before unconsciousness. Cool blues spilled over the landscape as the sun slipped below the horizon. A breeze lifted a bit of dust into the air, and no trace of the two of them was left in Sunnydale.


	2. Tumble Where?

The first thing Buffy noticed was the blade of grass tickling the edge of her nose as she breathed in and out. The piercing sunlight roused her fully as she sat up straight. The bodice would not allow for much bending anyway with its boning. A bodice? Where did that come from? She looked down to see the rather low cut dress and full skirt she was wearing. Looking over, she saw Giles wearing a sort of vest over a laced up shirt, and what seemed to be slightly loose tights. When did he get toned thighs anyway? He appeared to be dozing against one of about a dozen moderately short trees circling them, multitudes of bright red berries weighed down the branches. The late afternoon sun dappled his face through the leaves.

"Giles?"

"Oh good, you've awakened," he said, his eyes still closed, sounding as though he had been up for hours thinking.

"Good? Giles, where the hell are we? How long have we been here? And why do we look like a couple of refugees from the Dark Ages?" she asked incredulously. He was remarkably calm for obviously not being in Sunnydale any longer.

Giles opened his eyes and looked toward the sun, gauging how much time they had before sunset. If the sun felt like it, at least. "We appear to be in a hawthorn grove, we've only been here for about a half hour as far as I can tell, and as for the clothes…" He looked down at his own jerkin and pushed himself up. "Well, this is often what happens when you, er, tumble Underhill." He blushed when he glanced down at his tight breeches and saw Buffy watching him. She was going to enjoy the view for as long as they were there, no matter how much it made him blush, much to her own surprise.

When she realized the pause had gone on a little too long, she asked the obvious question.

"Tumble where?"

He bent himself at the waist in a deep bow to Buffy. "Milady, we are now in the Realm of Faery." A roguish, if slightly uncomfortable and unfamiliar, twinkle in his green eyes formed as he smiled. Buffy realized that he was finding the whole situation amusing. Giles was acting totally bizarre, like he was all down with that courtly love thing they talked about in class last semester. Was this some sort of joke?

This just angered Buffy even more. "We're where? How did we get here? How do we get back?" Giles unfolded his body as Buffy's litany continued -- the slightly hysterical edge to her words growing as she stood up and realized just how out of control of the situation she was, and Giles was acting odd. "Who's going to take care of Dawn while we're gone, and what are we going to be able to do about Glory from here? And how do you know all this?"

He massaged the back of his neck as he wandered over, embarrassed. "Well, I've been here before, long ago. You needn't worry about time as it's passing in our Realm; when we get back we'll likely have been gone for no more than a couple minutes as time… Time does not move in the same way here. No. Even if we're here a few months time, we'll be back before anyone misses either of us."

Buffy's eyes widened as she realized there might be other implications. She'd been in a situation like this in LA. "There's not going to be any demons here wanting us for slave labor for 80 years only to return our broken bodies to the streets when they're done, are they?"

Giles tilted his head and looked at her. "You, no. They'll probably let you go rather easily, all things considered. They'd be rather nervous having a Slayer here for any grand length of time." She knew he was holding back. He may not answer everything, but she was going to try her damnedest to get as much information out of him.

"And you?"

He paused again. "It will depend entirely on if I can get an audience with the Queen at Court, and how generous She's feeling toward me." His eyes left hers, his hand left her shoulder at returned to it's tense raking of his. He must be really trying to keep it together, joviality aside. "I'm afraid that when last I was here, I didn't exactly leave on the best of terms." Giles' head jerking in the direction of the bells; their jingle sounded like a distant warning. He paled slightly.

Buffy groaned, "Peachy. Well, we best get going. I assume that you happen to know where we're headed?" Being overtly angry was not going to help the situation at all, but she decided snippiness was definitely called for.

Giles glanced in the direction that the bells came from, and headed at a right angle to them. "This way. With luck we're not far from Market, and I can inquire where Court is being held this year." He extended his arm in a gesture of companionship on their trek. Buffy just looked at his arm, then at him, and steadfastly did not take it.

****

Market was not a difficult find. As they grew closer, the smells of horses and food and fires wafted towards them on the wind. The sounds, muffled at first, grew louder and more raucous until they reached the gate. Some smallish buildings were scattered amongst the cacophony of tents and temporary structures that went on and on. People advertised their wares at the top of their lungs with little hint that they ever needed to breathe in again.

The people generally parted before Giles and her as they strode through the streets. He was looking for a particular shop. Just then, Buffy's stomach growled audibly. The loudest voices suddenly seemed to be promoting their succulent meat, ale, and fruits. Stalls overflowed with abundance as Buffy slowed a pace. Giles noticed her absence and caught back up with her just as she was starting to negotiate for a couple of apples with a proprietor who stood only 3 feet tall and had what seemed to be moss for hair. Politely he interrupted the haggling and guided a pouting Buffy away from the stall.

His voice was low as he warned, "No food. Especially not apples. Not even if you feel like your stomach will devour you, if you ever hope to see Dawn again. Not until we get some sort of dispensation, at least." That was all he needed, her binding herself to Faery.

With an obvious sulk, she changed the topic to something she apparently thought unrelated to her grumbling tummy. "So what are we looking for anyway?"

That didn't work. "The baker on Drury Lane."

"Can I get something to eat there, then? I didn't eat yet today. Had I known I was going on trip, I would have had at least a snack."

"No. But perhaps when we get to Court. It's never that far from Market, I just have to know which direction. And the baker's an old friend, still. I hope." He placed his hand on her back as they wove toward what seemed to be the center of Market, unwilling to lose her again in case someone else tried to tempt her. She looked up at him as he looked ahead. Finally he saw what seemed to be another spoke from the center of Market, a crooked sign denoting it as Drury Lane.

Remembrance crept across her face as her eyes lit up and a smile played across her lips. "Are you going to tell me that you know Shrek too?"

For once, a movie he'd actually seen. He glanced at her affectionately. "That's just a piece of fiction, Buffy, not an actual nursery rhyme." They paused before the house with the sign that said Muffin Enterprises, and ducked in the door. The ceiling was a mere inch above his head, and he had to duck his head again at every exposed mahogany beam.

His rotund friend's eyes widened to saucer size as he gasped, "Sir Ash, you... He looked over to Buffy, who's looking around the storefront. "And you brought...… you best come in back. You weren't seen, were you?"

"Well, I'm a little difficult to miss at Market, and I didn't have time for a stealthy..." he said sheepishly. He knew he probably should have taken better caution, but in his haste had neglected to think that far ahead.

"In back. Both of you. Before She hears of this." He shuffled them in back to have a soft talk, while the shopgirl took over the cash register.

****

In contrast to the noises of outside, the backroom of the bakery was a quiet oasis, Buffy noticed as her ears started to ring. Giles scrunched into one of the short chairs, looking very much like an adult at a child's tea party. The conversation was held in hushed tones as if the walls could hear. The way everyone was acting, it might not be that far fetched an idea.

"As ever, it was my own folly that tempted fate and brought us here. But truthfully, a sidhe mound popping up out of nowhere, I wouldn't put it past Her Grace to have lured me here." Giles looked back and forth as he continued. "It is not as if living on a Hellmouth is a terribly relaxing lifestyle."

The baker glared at Giles for having known better, each word bitten and chewed. "One might think you wanted to be dazzled. You were a wily one, Ash, have you lost your wits?"

"I hope not, or there will be even more complications when I show up at Court with a Slayer in tow." Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes again. In his vexation, the baker's hands wrenched at his apron, periodically tossing little clouds of flour into the air.

"You are positively daft! Would you rather have a big glowing glamour to attract more attention to yourself?"

A growl entered Giles' voice, though it seemed more from impatience than true anger. "It's not like I had a choice in the matter. Look, I just want to ask someone I trust where Court is being held so that I can go there with as little trouble as possible and before Her Grace has a chance to work up a really big fit for when I arrive, because I have no doubt if She hasn't heard by now, She will have by dusk."

He dropped his apron as he conceded defeat. "One day's ride, westerly. There won't be any horses ready this time of day, and you best be on your way to the Inn, or there won't be a room for you." Looking out the window, the baker shuddered, "It's about dusk now."

Giles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Thank you. I'm sorry to have been a bother for you, if there's anything..."

"Just go. And if there's a next time, be sure you're in Her Grace's graces." They stood, and Giles escorted a confused looking Buffy out the door towards the Inn.

Buffy glared at Giles, her voice low and dangerous as she was determined she was not going to stand for Giles' usual reserved responses. "Giles, if you don't tell me exactly what's going on here, and I mean soon, you're not just going to be on some Queen's shit list. And when did you go all Army of Darkness with the name?"

His hand at the small of her back again soothed her, much against her will. "I promise, I'll tell you everything once we are tucked away at the Inn. It's not far."


	3. Persistence of Thyme

As he finished muttering a privacy spell, a blanket of silence enveloped the room. Wearily, Giles sagged against the wall, dropping his hands to rest atop his knees, head hanging between them. His young friends may have called him an emotional marathon runner, but even he hit his limits eventually. Buffy's face softened at the abrupt shift in demeanor and sat beside him to stroke his hair. He relaxed at her touch but did not look up.

The last few hours left him feeling attacked on all sides. He was not supposed to be here, and he knew Buffy blamed him for their little side trip. He blamed himself for having a moment of weakness, and that was the roughest. It was no longer welcoming here as it had been in times past.

Just sitting there in silence, her fingertips entangled in his hair, however, brought him a modicum of solace. But Buffy deserved to know what was going on, so he gathered himself together again to speak. His muffled comment finally pushed past his knees. "I had forgotten how tiring it can all be here."

Buffy tilted her head in response, quietly questioning him, "How bad is it and how who do I have to fight to fix it?"

He looked up at her offer and calmed demeanor, smiling weakly, "I don't think you can. But thank you."

"So what's the what?"

He put his glasses aside, too tired to even focus anymore. Besides, it would be easier to tell her if he could only see the large reactions. Giles didn't know if he could handle whatever responses that she had to his past. "After Eyghon, I h… I didn't quite return immediately to the Council. I was missing for seven years."

This bit of information should have startled Buffy, but it didn't seem to, her hand continued to stroke his hair. Giles so rarely wanted to talk of anything in his past, he didn't know how to read her non-reaction to information about himself, especially something dramatic like that. "Somehow I suspect it has to do with this Queen."

"Quite. She is the Embodiment of Faery, capricious, chaotic, and occasionally cruel, but also affectionate and caring when the whim strikes. She is… enchanting," he reluctantly sighed.

"In the literal sense?"

A slight shrug and he went back to examining the floor, seeing only the past. "To some. For me, I just wanted away from England and She was, is beautiful. She promised a life of leisure and, well, life. No demons, no destiny, just wine, people and song." He looked at his hands, a self-deprecating smile crossing his face. "I was actually treated as King. For a while at least."

"King Ash? Couldn't they have chosen something a little less… smoky?"

He smiled at her teasing, but played along. "It's for the tree actually. Sacred to the Fair Folk, strong yet flexible, a great healing tree. Symbolized rebirth, they told me, part of the eternal cycle. A charm against evil, even."

"Sounds like good stuff." She ruffled his unruly hair a little. "So what are you not telling me?"

He looked sideways at her, wary, unsure how much he should tell her. It was difficult as it was being so exposed. This information might prove important to returning, so he had to. "You always must remember the customs on the Grey Path are different than our own. The ballads say that every seven years or so, the Queen of Elphame owes a tithe to hell. "

Buffy's eyes blazed, her hands stilled. "And so after a nice long period to fatten you up they hand you over to the demons?"

"I said they would send me to hell, Buffy, not to hand me over to the demons. Their concept of hell is quite different. No, they drop you back in our realm, in a time beyond what you knew, and leave you either mad or desperate to get back with no way to do so. They remove pertinent memories to your time here, but leave just enough to know that you're missing something and not know why. And they leave you unsure what you had been doing for however many years. It is, in fact, rather forbidden to return."

Before she could ask exactly what he did remember, and if he regretted leaving, he whispered, "I didn't read the fine print before signing up because I was so enamored with her. I do believe that She favored me some. So I paid a different price. My eyesight worsened a great deal, and my memories of magical talent beyond the summoning were removed. I was given back my memories of Randall as fresh as the day She took me, however." He faltered for a moment. "And I lost Ethan." He stilled again, looking at his fingers. Ethan certainly would not have lost himself in chaos has he been there to save him. When he returned, he barely knew Ethan anymore.

As he picked up his narrative again, his voice grew stronger with the memory that not everything had gone wrong in the leaving. "She was merciful in that She left me with the fencing skills I had learned there, and the language ability. But that was all, and only because She knew that I would be a Watcher again. She was livid, but I believe She also was going to miss me. I didn't go mad. And I didn't know the longing until the hill appeared in Sunnydale; I don't know if that part of the curse can ever be removed. Even if I regret how things had to be, I would change none of it." He willed her to believe it, though he had no indication if she did.

"How long were you here then?"

"For me, it was 21 years." Buffy gasped. "While you're here, however, you don't age. So when they dropped me back 7 years later, I was legally a 28-year-old with a 21-year-old's body, and the knowledge of a 42-year-old. I joined with the Council again, no where else to turn, finished my Oxford degree in record time after getting back, and went on about my life."

"I'll never make fun of your age again. No wonder…" She searched his face, seeming to understand his intense eyes and the curious mixture of age and youth that he was.

"So one last question. How do we get back?"

He sighed. He knew he had to tell her, but he hadn't wanted to worry her with how unlikely it might be they might be to get back. He hated being at the mercy of anyone. "That's why we have to go to Court. The only way back, b-because of my… past, is through the dispensation of the Queen."

"So we get to see a Queen who's likely not happy to see you with a Slayer she inherently dislikes to ask a favor and send us home?

"Basically."

"Sounds like your typical day in Buffy's World. Well, I hope you can be your super charmingest. Besides, if She really did miss you, then it shouldn't be too hard." She smoothed his hair and stood up. "It's late. Sleep. I'll just head to my room, and…"

"Um, actually, they only had one room available." Giles tried not to look at the bed and noticed Buffy doing the same. All that the room had was a bed two a total of two pillows, a nightstand, and a dresser; there weren't even any chairs.

He caught the squaring of her shoulders before she asked, "Left or right?"

"Excuse me?"

"Which side. Do you want to sleep on? I'm not letting you take the floor when you're as exhausted as I am. And we have to leave at dawn."

He blinked. Sleep would be difficult were they to share a bed in the wake of his changing feelings in the last year. It was impossible, however, to explain that to her. Her fingers unlaced her bodice and slipped it over her head. "I-I don't think it would be proper for us..."

"No excuses. Left or right?" She smiled brightly. "Don't make me knock you out, Giles. You'll be on the bed either way, but only you get to choose whether you have a headache in the morning."

He shifted uncomfortably as her chemise flowed softly around her body. "Er, left."

Her hands reached behind to remove her necklace and placed it on the nightstand. "Good. That works out perfectly," she chirped. Slowly her look became more pointed until Giles self-consciously shrugged off the jerkin and padded over to his side of the bed as he loosened the laces on the shirt.

Sleep was well nigh impossible on the other side of the bed from Buffy. She had grown into an incredibly lovely woman, and Giles was not immune to her charms. How lovely those charms had been as she matured and acted like it, especially when she stood up to the Council. Powerful. Confident. Self-reliant, but not overly so. And quite beautiful, though in their relationship he could only tell her that under the strictest of circumstances that wouldn't betray the kind of affection he had begun to hold for her since the summer after Adam.

He had to consciously slow and even out his breathing to feign sleep, as he realized she was lying awake as well. A few moments later, as he was lost in his daydreams behind closed eyes, he thought he felt a hand brush his backside. A soft kiss brushed his jaw near his ear with the barest of whispers said, "Sweet dreams, Giles." He was doomed to never rest that night, now, the heat of her body electrifying him across the small distance between them. Was that another attempt of hers to reach that love her guide told her she possessed? What did it all mean? He stared at the wall wishing for answers that never came and dreamed of his golden muse in situations that only left him troubled and frustrated in the morning.


	4. Two to Tangle

An echo of giggling combined with a yank of her hair tugged her back to wakefulness. Chitters swirled around her as she reached up a hand to her hair and felt the snarls and tangles that the flittering fairy had teased her with. She turned her grumpy countenance to the left side of the bed; there was still a slight indentation where Giles had slept, but it was cold. Her hand stroked the indentation absently. His absence was less troubling than the way she found herself staring into space thinking about the softness of his tousled hair last night, the mischievous glint in his eyes, and the hint of tone her Watcher's legs held under his breeches as they had walked yesterday. She shook herself and further assessed their location, putting all thoughts of Watcher yumminess where they should be, out of her mind.

The room was awash in the pale pink of pre-dawn light, the streets below already bustling. She looked around to find that the doors were in different places. Her bodice was now blue instead of brown, and her necklace had been replaced with a locket, with an image of her Mom and Dawn on the right and Giles on the left. She trembled slightly at the sight, and then closed it resolving to find Giles just as soon as she dressed.

The sound of the door behind her made her turn, and then place her hands over her hair in embarrassment as Giles walked into the room. He fidgeted with the few items he was carrying and obviously avoided looking at her. It must be worse than she thought; like Cordelia's nightmare bad. "Oh Buffy, good, you're up. We should depart shortly if we're to make it to Court at an appropriate time. My apologies for not being here when you awoke but I was procuring a horse."

"Giles, what happened to the doors?"

"What? Oh, uh, that's one of the things about this place. Things change when you're not looking. Don't worry, you'll, uh, get used to it. I imagine they'll be a little more adamant about the whole thing with a Slayer around." Her hands were still on her hair as she tried to unobtrusively detangle her locks with her hands while hiding the mess from Giles. As he registered the odd placement of her hands, he asked, "A-are you all right? Do you have a headache or something?"

She groaned. "No, it just looks like my hair hasn't had conditioner in ever. I can cope with my necklace being stolen, but did they have to tangle my hair?"

He smiled and muttered a line. A drawer in the nightstand called attention to itself and opened very slightly. "There's a comb. I hope that can help. Do hurry, I want to leave in 10 minutes. I'll be down taking care of the horse."

She murmured thanks and set to brushing and slipping into her bodice, wishing there were time for a quick shower. Or whatever they had here. She would have felt more awake. Smoothed out, she found a snood for hair to hold it while they rode and hopefully keep it from tangling again. Set, she headed to the stables.

****

"Are you sure about this? I mean, couldn't you like spell one up or something since you seem to be all magicky here?" Buffy looked skeptically at the brown horse, covered only with a blanket, Giles sitting astride holding his hand out to lift her up.

His impatience to get going and frustration at her stubbornness made him terse. "There are no saddles here, and I can't conjure." His hand twitched with emphasis. When she didn't move he sighed. "Well I can't. What happened with the comb was merely asking the brownies to point one out. Each time I do something, it's without Her permission, however, and I'd prefer not provoke Her too much. Just mount up and hold tight. If you follow my movements you'll be fine. You'll be a natural." He tried to coax without letting any of the nervousness he felt bleed through.

To have her pressed up against him like she had ended up during the course of the night, he would have to spend his time distracting himself with translations or reviewing the latest archeological news. He blessed and cursed the need for the closeness as she grabbed his hand and lifted herself up. With her arms around his waist, he reveled in her warm softness for a moment, a direct contrast to her worries of being hard and cold. No one that warm could be cold inside, he decided. The underlying whipcord steel of her muscles only made her touch that more sweet. "Do you have a good hold?" She mutely nodded against his back. He smiled and pointed the horse westward away from the center of Market, through the streets that had rearranged in the night.

****

They rode in companionable silence, swifter than wind through the forest. Buffy could not see the trail Giles was leading them down, but she swore that the branches were specifically bending away from them. She felt more than heard Giles' quiet muttering, imagining it was to convince the branches to move. Softly she leaned her head against his back taking in the scenery as it whipped by.

She could understand why one wouldn't want to leave a place as beautiful as this. The green of the trees seemed just a little brighter than ordinary with a hidden extra sparkle here and there. The scents were as lush as the view, and everywhere seemed to be teeming with life. The sun dappled through the high branches and made the tawny strands of Giles' hair glow in a rippling pattern. Strangely, even though they'd been riding for a few hours, the sun remained in it's early morning eastern spot that it occupied they left. It was truly bizarre here, to live here for as long as she'd been alive and never age. And not have to drink blood. There was a thought, would they have to drink blood? Giles would probably mention it, but those trees looked a little thirsty.

Gently, he brought the horse down to a regular speed walk, leading them to a small hidden grotto. A stream, slightly denser shade, and an incredible amount of berries. Sliding off the back, she watched her Watcher fluidly dismount after her and loosely tie up the horse. "So can we drink the water? I mean, if we're not to eat food, does that mean no water too?"

Brightly he smiled, "You should ask our host if it's permissible." Buffy looked over to see a slightly translucent and totally blue female head tilted, arms folded and leaning against the rock.

She blinked once and then asked the nymph, embarrassed. "Would you mind if I had some of your water to drink?" The nymph nodded yes and smiled. Buffy looked back and forth between Giles and the nymph. "I hate to ask two things, but could I possibly wash up too? It's been a long couple days."

Giles blushed at the mention of washing. Neither had the time before they left, she guessed, and they would both have to. The nymph winked exaggeratedly, giggled, and splashed them both before diving underneath and disappearing, leaving them alone. "Um, does that mean what I hope it does?" Buffy turned to Giles who looked about as soggy as she felt.

"After a fashion, though with how fast she left, I would say that she was making a few more assumptions…" he fidgeted. "Still, it's a fabulous idea so long as we're quick. It behooves us to be a little more presentable."

Buffy stared at him. He stared back. Until realization dawned. "Oh, uh, yes. I-I'll just… I'll just be over there so you can wash. And call out when you're finished, please." He crept over to a rock on the other side of the spring and turned his back. Her chemise rustled as it dropped to the ground.

****

Soft splashes accompanied her apparent washing, and the sound soothed Giles in it's peaceful domesticity. He opened his eyes briefly again to see a face no more than two inches from his own, causing him to jump back startled before he recognizd his friend Linden. Linden's brown eyes darted frequently, most often landing on the golden beauty behind Giles.

Words rushed out of his mouth, "Ash! She'll hate her. I heard whispers that you were back. That's one fine Poplar you've brought with you. What ever were you thinking? I'm glad to see your horse is brown. I've taken the liberty of spreading the word, until you're at Court there won't be anymore pranks even if you were foolish enough to bring a Slayer with you. And She'll hate the haircut. What a time for you to choose to come here. One fine lady indeed. No more spells, it's irking Her. White would have been a problem. You never were this modest before. Silly mortals. She does so love long hair. You will make a grand entrance though no grander than Her Grace, of course. I will see you at dusk." He patted Giles' shoulder and disappeared in a blink, leaving the Watcher spun, amused and disconcerted all at once.

"Why thank you, Linden. I'll see you at Court." He shook his head.

"Who are you talking to, Giles?" Buffy placed a hand on his back, causing him to jump slightly.

A brief smile and he replied, "One of my, more, uh, non-linear friends. Seems my, arrival, is nothing near secret."

Buffy shrugged, "We didn't expect to be. Your turn."

"Uh, yes. I shan't be long. Oh, and it seems you've been named." As he removed his jerkin and shirt, Buffy swiveled around to give him the same privacy he had her, though he noticed the swift and failed covert glances.

"Ooh, I get one of the children of the 60's kinds of names too? Do I get to be a Lily or a Rosebud or something? As long as it's not a Heather, Heathers are way too well versed in early Cordelia and I'm so over that."

Splash. "If you consider Poplar to be one, yes." He scrubbed vigorously for a minute before she responded.

The shrug was practically audible in her voice. "I guess it's okay."

"The poplar is a tree that transcends fear. It's a perfectly noble sort of name."

"Does this mean I get to be a noble woman?"

Softly, he chuckled in answer, "Don't press your luck." A swift splash and he started to dress again, his breeches clinging damply. At the sound of him untying the horse, she turned around and moved toward him. He left a small bauble for the nymph in thanks, and mounted. Buffy climbed on behind, and they rode off into the forest to catch the falling sun.


	5. Courtly Love

Pipes and drums and unnatural voices like bells echoing off the trunks of the trees heralded the location of Court. Curtains of ivy shrouded the entrance. Cautiously, Buffy looked to Giles, and then parted vines to enter. Some courtiers looked more human, some looked less, and the bright colors were difficult to absorb. No one took notice of Buffy, the occasional mortal not unusual at their bacchanal. As Giles passed through, however, the laughter turned first to whispers and then even more raucous stories to cover their stares.

And all through the weave of parties, they both noticed the focus of this tapestry. On her oak throne sprawled the Queen. It was an intricate cut defined by two trunks rising to either side and a third cut to form Her seat. Her wild wavy hair cascaded in an auburn fall so dark as to almost be black, and was held only in place by a thin silver circlet around Her brow. Her dress seemed to be made of leaves, though it flowed like the finest of silks. She sensuously bit into a blood red apple and laughed. Her iridescent green eyes glittered in amusement until Her eyes captured Giles'. His breath caught at the gaze of His Lady, Her smile turning slightly cruel for all its beauty.

Quietly he warned his Slayer, "Lower your eyes, Buffy. She will not suffer insolence tonight." Buffy complied as best she could, stealing jealous glances every once in a while to watch the interaction between her Watcher and this Lady. The nearby conversations lowered to a murmur as Giles stepped forward and knelt before the Queen.

The crisp bite of an apple that sounded too close to a whip crack echoed through the hall. She measured him, Her lips pursed closed for a moment before She spoke, "That haircut is atrocious, Ash. You've really let yourself get old since leaving." Her eyes slowly moved to look to the distance as though the very site of him distasteful.

"Giles is not old!" Buffy interrupted hotly, drawing the Queen's attention. She did not waver under Her unblinking amused gaze. When Buffy caught Giles' imploring, angry, and confused stare, she started to doubt if coming to his defense was such a great idea. He didn't appear to think so. "And his hair … is … fine…"

A smirk played across the Queen's lips. Leisurely she continued as if the outburst never happened, "And what made you think that you could enter again without the price being taken?"

His eyes cast downward in shame, "Milady, I had no idea there would be a concordance at that hill, and I merely… w-we fell…"

"No," She cut in. "You wanted to see again once you remembered. Perhaps you even fancied to see My face. You fell to your temptation, even after the generous deal I made you." She drank deep from her goblet and considered Buffy, before looking back at him. "And you bring the Slayer with you? Did you think that would save you? You finally abdicated, Ash. Your life is forfeit." Her eyes finally settled on Buffy in challenge, though She continued to speak only to Giles. "Why should I not have you as my tithe?"

Giles finally raised his head to look in those eyes to whisper, "Glorificus."

All the Queen's movement stopped, and Court went silent at the abrupt shift in Her mood. She looked hard at Giles, and he watched as She saw the disappearance of Her Kingdom. After a moment, Her eyes gently twinkled as a new idea entered Her thoughts, Her smile more amused than anything else. Another deep drink of wine, a breath, and She offhandedly asked, "Do you remember the Stag as well?" The conversations started up again, covering everyone's shock at the news.

Giles blushed and stammered, "Uh, yes, but…"

She smiled over Her apple. "Bring it to me before we Ride, or you will Ride as well." More quietly She apologized, "You know I must ask a price. At least it is for you both." She looked at him pointedly, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips. Swiftly She moved in, grabbed his jerkin, and kissed him in a way that Buffy was certainly was illegal in at least a dozen states.

Hot on his neck, She whispered in his ear, "You should make your Poplar quake, and soon, or she'll split in two." His face turned a dark crimson at the bawdy suggestion. Louder, She chuckled, "My, Ash, you were never so modest before." More seriously She continued for all to hear, "You have two weeks to bring the Stag. If it will make you more comfortable eat, drink, and be merry, I lift any binding it may hold until you return. Enjoy the party, you leave at dawn." And with the dismissal She turned to talk to Linden standing behind and to Her right. Linden's eyes met Giles' briefly as he escorted a jealous Buffy away from the throne.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Buffy picked up two goblets of red wine and a hunk each of cheese and bread on their way to an apparently empty alcove in the hall. Giles grabbed some grapes as well, and sat down beside her.

"That went way better than you seemed to think it was going to go," Buffy chirped innocently as she handed the wine to him. Giles decided to leave her illusion in tact. She took a deep draught of the wine as if she were presented with water after a long walk in a desert.

"Buffy, do be careful with the wine. Faery wine can be a great deal more intoxicating." She immediately giggled into her wine, and then placed it down for a bit at his admonishing glare.

"So what's this about a stag?"

"The Stag is sort of how I ended up here in the first place."

With a raised eyebrow, Buffy settled down to delve into the cheese and grapes as Giles continued, "Ethan and I were staying near the Queen's hunting grounds outside of London. It was after… And well, I was out for a walk in the woods when I spotted a white stag. I could never turn down something unusual, so I followed. I ended up in Faery."

Quietly she examined his somber look, extending a hand to touch his knee, "Is that why you say that part of your price was Ethan?"

He marveled at her insight, as though she knew his heart before her own. He raised his eyebrows and conceded, "In part. I don't think he would have been pulled so far in by Chaos had I been around to balance him. Faeries are not exactly benign and have their own brand of Chaos surrounding them as it is. Had I been mad, he would have been the ordered one of the two of us." He looked at his hands again, mourning the loss of his friend.

She ducked to capture his eyes and showered him with compassion, "You couldn't have known." He smiled briefly and took a draught of his wine, closed in his own grief for a moment.

He continued tangentially, the wine leading his thoughts down a maudlin path. "The ironic part when I saved you from Mrs. Madison is that I didn't remember a thing about my previous talents. As far as I knew, I spoke the truth when I told you it was my first casting. There's so… much … I couldn't have known, but I should have…"

Buffy's finger pressed to his lips and silenced him. "It's okay. I'll get the Stag, we'll bring it back, and we'll go back to save Dawn." She released his lips just in time, as he barely suppressed his urge to kiss her. "The only question I have is will we remember our time here?"

Giles looked thoughtfully into the distance as she finished her goblet and ate the last bit of cheese. "It will depend entirely upon the generosity of Her Ladyship."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the party, until they started to notice a distinct writhing to it all. The orgiastic quality made Buffy blink a couple times, but she turned her gaze to Giles and his soft smirk. He noticed her gentle yawn and patted her knee. "We best head out to find somewhere to sleep before all the good spots in the woods are taken." Her eyes dilated a little at the thought, and he continued, "I'm afraid that you'd be best spending the night with me again if you don't want, well, that is," He drew a calming breath to try to stop the impending stammering he felt oncoming. "Fertility magic runs high at these… scenes. And…"

Her laughter sounded a little like bells as she stuck out her arm to lead him away, "I'll save you from the Queen if that is your desire, Milord. You can be as orgy free as you want."

He chuckled back, "Yes, well, I was thinking more of you…" he teasingly murmured as they stepped over a pair, a tangle of scarlet and dark brown hair murmuring "Oh Juniper." He would have blushed had he not been flushed from the wine.

"You think I can't handle an orgy?"

"I think we're not having this conversation."

They settled together beyond the hall under a cluster of pines, lying in each other's arms on the fresh pine needles. Buffy drifted swiftly off to sleep, leaving Giles to think in his haze. The echoes of the Queen's suggestion rattled in his brain, and the sexual energy from Court palpably rippled through the forest. The soft way Buffy's hand tickled his stomach as she slept made him tremble as well.

What scared him the most, however, was what might be entailed in successfully completing the hunt. Some stories demanded intimacy between the hunters to ensure not only a successful hunt, but future hunts as well. The "quake" comment seemed only to support that, if he were interpreting the implied threat correctly. Buffy would never hear of it from him if he could help it. She would take it, never even entertaining the idea that she had a choice. He would not be that unfair to her.

Giles fell asleep cursing the need to get back to Sunnydale so quickly, leaving him a significant lack of time to really give the Queen a piece of his mind.


	6. Over Dale

Morning sent them riding towards the sea on their single horse. Linden had gathered a few supplies for them to take with themselves, and said they might try in that direction first. They traveled light, however, bringing only a couple of tools and a couple changes of clothes. Well, amongst the other comments, but that was the one they could decipher that had any relevance. With the blanket permission granted, they could eat foraged food, after asking permission of the local guardian.

Even though Buffy had adapted to riding bareback through the woods, she held on even closer to Giles. Her warmth was as much a comfort as a distraction. Simultaneously, Giles tried not to think about his changing affection for Buffy, the sheer terror of what would happen if they did not in fact find the Stag in time, and that the latter may entirely depend upon the former if his fears were correct. The thoughts instead collided and preyed upon his peace of mind. Then again, there'd been little peace in his mind since they entered Faery, and he prayed to all the gods who might listen to not let anything ruin their relationship.

Her warm breath on the back of his neck made him shiver as she chose to start a conversation rather than take in more scenery.

"So what is this Ride the Queen mentioned, because I definitely heard a capital R when she mentioned it? Sounds important. And you started getting all British at the mention." She sat a little more upright, brushing her body against his, and teasingly said, "I know, it's a tweedy horse event where you chase a fox and have little whips in your hand."

He cast a look over his shoulder to see her looking upward grinning, he smirked, "I think if you paid attention you'd notice a distinct lack of tweed here. I'm not even convinced they have sheep anywhere near here. I've never seen one."

Giles did not think it was possible, but she scooted herself further forward in a full contact almost hug. Truthfully, he knew she only needed to hold on lightly for the ride, and the contact was perplexing. There was no further he could sit up the horse and still have it be comfortable for any of them, so he tried to ignore the strangeness and just let it all be. He hadn't elaborated, so she prompted him. "So horse and fox? Do they at least have trumpets and hounds and stuff?"

"Horses for some. Those that need them at least, though most don't. They shift into animals instead. The hounds and trumpets are optional, though if you've noticed the bells in the distance that's how you can tell the time is approaching. It is quite the event. Changes the whole landscape when it happens."

He felt her shrug. "We've seen that every day we've been here. I'm not even sure the sun moves in an east to west direction."

"I was being poetic, actually. No, legend says that we hear the echoes of its wild and untamed frenzy in the howling autumn wind."

"Ooh, like the Santa Ana winds?"

"Well, typically the winds are cold, but I suppose if you limited it to only those that happened in the fall, that would be the local correspondence." He smiled, then sobered. "I always noticed it in the changing leaves, back home. It's a gathering of the dead that have been left… behind… to move to the otherside, wherever that may be. It's a rather dangerous thing for mortals to get caught in without proper preparation."

"And you could get… swept away if you got caught up in this thing?"

"Not always. Only if you are caught unawares, or She slates that it is in fact your time for one reason or another. The Queen leads it, though you wouldn't be able to communicate with Her unless you were extremely close emotionally to Her. She's intoxicated, grieving, and her happiest all in one."

He peered forward, searching for evidence ahead of them that they were going the right direction in an attempt to ignore the flip-flops that her breath encouraged in his stomach. He almost accidentally reigned in the horse as he tried to reign in his own anger. The unfairness of the whole situation, of being in love with a woman half his age was daunting. In Sunnydale, he could bury it beneath social obligations. Here, however, the wildness was infectious. He collected himself just enough when she spoke, every movement of her jaw against his back sending flutters through him.

"Sounds like She gets as confused and conflicted as us."

****

Buffy had scarcely dreamed Giles would be so open. Then again, he had been previously when confronted so blatantly with his past, and being immersed in it with no sure way to get back certainly counted as a confrontation with it. She'd learned so much in the last days, she was spun. These faeries, they didn't seem as playful as some New Age types believed, nor were they as evil as childrens' stories made them out to be. There was certain danger, however, of the mental kind here. And what if the Queen didn't want to let Giles go anyway? What if She missed him so much that She decided to keep him even after they got the Stag? Or what if he wanted to stay? She could not go back home without him.

"Giles, if you were King, does that mean, I mean she looked like She'd been pretty close to you at one point."

He answered in a soft strained voice. "I wasn't King, just treated as if I were one. We were at a time."

Sometimes men could be totally dense. Okay, so she wasn't being terribly obvious, but still he should know. And if she was going to know all the threats against them, she needed to know. It was entirely professional. "Were you in love with Her?"

The rumble of his voice made her tingle, even taught with anxiety as she was waiting for his answer. "Once. I thought so at least. I had been quite enamored with Her Grace. But that path leads only to sorrow. The Queen has many loves. But she only has one Love, and that honor belongs to the Consort."

"Capital L?"

"Indeed."

Breathing recommenced, and her words were alternately rushed and halted. "Did you ever… I mean, how can anyone measure up to a Queen, who… that, I mean, I need to know… what I'm up against. I-in case I need to, you know, rescue you. Back to Sunnydale." Where they had a hell god waiting to kill them. Brilliant. And by the way, jealous much? What was she trying to get at anyway? It's not like she had a reason to be jealous.

He glanced over his shoulder, a curious look on his face. "One can. Measure up. Reciprocal love is much sweeter. And any mortal that would have the Queen as the Consort does would likely dissolve in the force of it." Her grip tightened just enough to stop his breathing. He managed to gasp, "I said that it was dangerous here." She let go enough that he could breathe again against her tight embrace. A few breaths and he continued, "Not because they wish us ill, but because they tend not to consider our strange mortality and think of us kind of like favorite pets."

"Well, you're not going anywhere, Mister. She's not going to put any leash or whammy or anything on you that makes you think you're going to stay here."

"Buffy, I don't think that She's consid…"

"Doesn't matter. You said She followed her whims. We're both getting out regardless of what happens." She held on to him if only for her own reassurance.

The forest was starting to feel a little crowded as they rode by, the threat heard by the passing trees and whispered on ahead. Buffy buried herself in the cocoon that was she and Giles and their horse, hoping they'd leave the two of them be.

****

Arrival at the sea left them with little in the way of sign that the Stag had been there. After some searching on foot along the shoreline, Buffy found some possible hoof prints that led down to the waterline and disappeared. "Do you think this is it?" she asked uncertainly.

His hand was back to rubbing his neck again, as if attempting to bridge some gap between body and mind. "Well, it is certainly the best clue we've had, while the walking pattern is right, the prints are a little lighter than I expected." He cast his eye back and forth along the shore, seeing only smooth sand. "And which ever way the stag went, it's not in a way we can track. Maybe…"

Gracefully, Giles settled to the ground and removed his glasses. The damp sand irritated, but was ultimately ignorable in the short term with proper concentration. Instead he pulled his focus inward and his breath evened out. As if putting out feelers into Faery, he tried to feel the pulse of life around him. Moments flowed by. Buffy picked at her chipped nail polish and generally fidgeted. He had hoped that his connection to Faery would provide inspiration and point their way toward the Stag. And as the minutes passed, and the sun got bored and hopped forward several degrees in the sky, he realized he was getting no where. A deep breath and he opened his eyes to settle on a very bored looking Slayer.

He picked himself up and dusted himself off. "It's no good. I remember the area and can't seem to allow my mind drift enough here." He ran his hand through his hair.

As he placed his glasses back on his face, he continued, "Maybe you should have a shot. We've worked on your focus, and if you don't know where we are, you might not get distracted…" He looked curiously at Buffy, her mouth gaping wildly. "What?" He looked around only to settle back on her confused.

"Giles, your glasses..." Her lips flailed and her arms waved, but sound stopped leaving her mouth

"Have they changed frames again? Bother…"

"No, they completely… dissolved!" she squeaked. "Like, while I was watching. It was all dissolvey. Can you see?"

Giles raised his hand to his face and felt. No frames, no glass, nothing. His eyes crinkled in amusement. "I can see perfectly. Extraordinary. Let's hope it stays that way, shall we?"

Blinking, Buffy looked for a moment longer, and then grinned. "Let's shall." He truly looked happy for a moment, as though something had been absolved, a weight lifted. His look then turned back to her as if he expected her to continue. "Oh, yeah. White stag right? I bet there aren't 30,000 of them here or something."

"Not that many, no." He gestured and she closed her eyes. She pointed northward along the shoreline after what seemed to be little thought. "You sure?"

"First impression. We're not getting anywhere second-guessing anyway. Besides there are rocks a bit further than I think you can see and maybe he climbed up them to leave no trail." She hopped up onto the horse, and held out her hand to Giles.

The sunset cast a perfect warm tone over the both of them. He was pleased at her seamless use of her Slayer skills and her natural intelligence. He'd stopped questioning when she didn't "hone" long ago. Even without the training she amazed him, and she'd only surpassed imagination when she did train. He climbed on and gave her a soft pat on the shoulder in praise. A modest distance between them was maintained as she led the horse along the waterline.


	7. Betide Me Well, Betide Me Woe

Three days later they were no closer to finding the Stag. The trail had gone cold two days before, and they were striking out with only Buffy's Slayer sense directing them. Even then, some of the forests were looking similar as if the forest were making them tread the same ground until they got it right. Or admitted defeat.

As they stopped for their noon meal, Buffy jittered with restlessness. Her eyes darted angrily around the clearing. The fourth time she braided and unbraided her hair instead of touching her food, Giles asked, "Buffy, is something bothering you?"

She blushed as he caught her eye, ashamed that he had caught her. She let go of her hair, and smoothed it down. "NO. No. No, I'm okay, really." A flurry of pipes on the wind accented her sentence. She sidled closer to Giles and whispered in his ear. "Actually, I'm not. I feel like… I feel like they're always staring. Everywhere."

Giles' mouth contracted into a line. "I was afraid it might be something like that."

"I feel like… And we have to ask for absolutely everything. 'Can I have this berry?' 'Can I sit here?' Even 'Can I take a piss here?'" Her voice was getting slightly louder as she pulled away and a hysterical tone crept in. "Giles, I don't know how much more I can take of this."

A faery fluttered by with a whoosh and the sound of bells trailing behind her. "And the music! It's unnatural! It's like I'm trapped in an Enya video or something and this is so far from the paradise it seemed at first." Giles opened his mouth about to interrupt Buffy's escalating hysteria when she burst forth, "Orgy! I want to hear Orgy!" To Giles' startled gaze, she screwed up her eyes and started belting out, slightly off key, "How does it feel to treat me like you do, when you've laid your hands upon me and told me who you are? I thought I was mistaken, I thought I heard your words. Tell me how do I feel, tell me now how do I feel?" She continued through the song at the top of her lungs.

Finally she took a deep calming breath, her hysteria under control again but her eyes still closed. She gathered herself into Giles' arms, and after a moment he broke the silence with a gentle teasing. "You know, you seem rather single minded on this orgy concept." She looked up to see his gentle mocking before it turned serious.

"I know it's hard." In the pause, he wiped away a tear that leaked from her eyes. "If it makes you feel any better, though, I think they all went into hiding for a little bit."

Buffy looked at him mournfully, "How did you do it, Giles? How did you live here for 21 years?"

"I…"

"Or is it because I'm the Slayer that they won't leave me alone?"

Her eyes pleaded with him to tell her that it was not the case, that it was anything other than who she was, but he couldn't lie to her no matter how much she asked. "In part. Probably. You're a threat to some balance by being here instead of at home. I don't actually know." He stared off into the forest before them; life was beinging to build back to its normal hectic pace. "I sang Sweet Jane and Heroin when I got here." She looked puzzled at him. "Velvet Underground."

He shifted uncomfortably under her skepticism. "But you do get used to it. I learned to actually play guitar here so I could play the music I wanted to hear. The staring… You learn to ignore it. They don't mean anything by it. Well, most of them don't. A-and the longer you're here, they stop. You change enough that you blend. It's part of acclimatizing."

Buffy's eyes widened again, with the threat of further hysteria soon, "Change? Like I'm going to have slitted pupils or pointy ears?"

Swiftly Giles set to soothing her, stroking her hair. "Nothing quite so permanent. You shouldn't worry about it, we're likely not going to be here long enough."

"But what if it does happen?"

He caressed her cheek. "Then they'll stop staring at you."

She leaned in closer for a hug, her eyes still watery. His arms were warm around her, and she didn't care if the whole forest looked at that moment. Love held them close and protected them both. Love. She loved him. Not in the grand drama or angsty way, but in the favorite-sweater-always-a-part-of-you way. There was an audible snap to the world for her as everything simplified in that moment. Before he knew it, she reached up and kissed him urgently on the lips.

Suddenly they heard a bellow that startled the horse and sent him galloping off. They turned and caught a glimpse of the white Stag watching them. As they grabbed their weapons, the Stag turned and fled, leaving them to pursue on foot.

****

Trudging through the forest, they didn't seem to have any leads. Branches slapped against them periodically as if to urge them onwards, but walking was much more tiring than riding. The directions Giles had managed to decipher from a dryad two hours back might have led them in circles, but it was difficult to say at this point. The land could have shifted forty times or more during their search.

Supposedly, He was in this direction, but they hadn't had sight in hours, and Giles felt he at least needed a momentary rest. They weren't going to get anywhere driving themselves into the ground in the late afternoon. Perhaps they should even find a spot for camping that night, with the sun as low in the sky as it was. They might have several hours, or they might have minutes. Better to be safe than sorry, he figured as he stood still for a moment.

He heard something hit the ground with a thud. He spun to see Buffy on her hands and knees looking defeated, if not physically tired from the constant hunt. Little faeries flittered around her in angry chitters as she had not asked to sit there. She ignored them despite their crescendo of protests. "We're never going to find Him, are we Giles? Without a horse, you can't keep up with me. And I won't leave you behind."

"W-well… we'll think of something. I think that we should likely find a spot for the night, however."

She wouldn't look at him. No matter how much he wished for her to look up and gain support from him, she wouldn't. Her mouth opened to continue or protest, but the sound that came out was inhuman. He watched as the world around him turned inside out, and she shifted. His eyes could not make sense of it all, but there she stood, a golden doe, the color of her hair, sleek and proud.

She looked startled, and then determined. Giles swore that she was imploring him to mount her with the way she looked right through him. Suddenly she knelt before him, and looked him in the eye. Quickly he grabbed the clothes that had fallen in the transformation, stuffed them in the bag, and mounted. The Stag showed himself, and off they were into the forest underbrush again.

They were a mere whisper among the trees, darting between the branches, leap, sighting, just always out of reach. It was all Giles could do to hold onto the doe beneath him and make himself small enough as not to obstruct her as she ran. Hunted. She was hunting the Stag as she hunted at home, pulled ever forward towards her quarry. There was intelligence, but there was also instinct. She seemed to just know where next to turn, pulled in the direction of the pale white whisper just ahead of them.

The sun slipped below the horizon, but twilight held on in its coolness. The last hint of the stag disappeared into some particularly thick mist by warm air over the river, and he vanished into the thicket on the other side.

Tired, she sagged to the ground, and Giles gently removed himself from her back. She stepped wearily over to the river to drink at the edge. He could not help but look at her amazing form, strong and delicate at the same time. Spun gold with underlying steel. Spun gold that paled, melted, and shrank. He realized a little too late that she had shifted back to human form, she was quite naked, and he was obviously admiring her form. He stammered and felt as though he'd rather crawl under a rock than be there. At the sight of her trembling form though, he gathered their stuff and then covered her with her chemise. He held her close until her shaking subsided.


	8. The Changing Night Sky

Finally, she collected herself together enough to look Giles in the eyes with wonder, amazement and fear. "What the hell was that? And why didn't you warn me that that could happen? Not that I'm complaining that I think we're closer to this Stag than we've been in ages, but you were doing so well at being Share Guy for a change, and I want to know what gives."

He dropped his eyes, unable to meet her gaze. "I-I… I didn't think it would happen." He glanced up to see her unwavering, arms crossed. Exasperated, he bristled, "Look, it only happened a couple times to me in the entire time I'd been here. And that was only after I'd been here for my first seven years. I didn't think being here a week would have… have… influenced you enough to be able to shift. Not unintentionally as it seemed to be at least."

Meanwhile, leaves rustled in the cooling breeze. Buffy looked up and saw the locals working, but only one or two actually stared instead of the multitudes she swore there were before. Her eyes widened at the thought, and then excitedly she asked, "Is this the change you were talking about yesterday? The one that means I've adapted to here?"

She smiled internally to see his brow crease in thought, his momentary upset smoothed over with the edge of her excitement, "It was one of the possibilities. And I must say it was an extremely fortuitous one. I wonder, if…" He looked back the way they came through the mist, then gently shook his head. "It doesn't matter, really. Here is likely a good enough place to camp for the night."

Buffy groaned as she sat down on the soft pine needles and humus. "That's good because, frankly, you are not light, mister." She laid back, arms beneath her head, ignoring the slightly offended look he gave her. A wide grin plastered across her face in enjoyment of the teasing.

Giles decided the only thing left was to tease her back, "And what happened to that Slayer's strength? Did it completely disappear when you became an animal?"

Her eyebrow cocked, "No, actually, I got stronger when I became an animal. But even when the vamps dropkick my spine, it's not all full body massage and truffles. Just superior pain delay."

"I'll have to remember that," Giles murmured to himself.

A beat passed as she looked at Giles, debated responding to that, and then turned back to the night sky deciding that as much as the comment intrigued her it was better to file away it for later.

"You know, I haven't looked at the sky since high school? I'm not even sure I have since that night you told me the story of Orion during one of those nights we sat waiting for someone to rise. I'm looking at them all the time at night now."

He sat down beside her and looked up as well, "But you've obviously patrolled since then., and the cemeteries are no worse a place to stargaze now…"

"Hunted, remember? I'm always moving when I go out now. I never even take the time to just look at what's around me. It's always about the next demon. I didn't even do more than glance when waiting for that guide to show."

His silent presence was enough to assuage the disturbance she still felt at that. They had never been able to find anything about that. Glory had taken up all their spare time, and little was left to figure out what it meant to be a Slayer. The guide hadn't even helped. Not really. All she did was talk in riddles. Something about the sky here was different, though, pressing home the fact that they may as well have been on an alien planet and there was so much she didn't know.

"Is it just me, or do the stars really change patterns every night? Like way faster than at home?"

He coughed, as though he didn't want to admit he knew what was going on. "They do like visiting with one another, and they can't see everyone in one night. There's too many of them."

Buffy moved up to lean on her elbows to look at Giles' face as he gazed at the stars. She groaned again, "You mean even they aren't just stars like the trees aren't just trees?"

"I'm afraid so, though most of the time they're wrapped up in their own stories. They don't come down but once every couple years or so for the Grand Gala Her Grace throws at the Solstice." His gaze turned unfocused as he looked into the past beyond the stars.

Curious and mildly disturbed, she asked, "No way, there's a night where there are no stars in the sky?"

His voice seemed very far away as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply the cool evening air, "Well, that's a little too linear to truly describe what happens. They're still up there, but they also climb down and join as all the inhabitants attend. It's quite a remarkable sight." He glanced down at her to see her intent gaze upon him. Caught, her eyes searched his as she decided it was time for directness.

Slowly she moved closer to him so as not to startle him away. "I think it's a little cool tonight. Perhaps we should sleep on the same side of the fire to keep warm tonight." Her hand caressed his cheek, drinking in the feel of him. She stopped her careful edge as his hand stilled hers, his eyes intense.

"I'm not so sure that is the best of …"

Her voice was somewhere between imploring and soothing, "It's just the same side of the fire. Back at the inn, at Court… we touched more. Like we were the only connection the other has to real life anymore. Even when I just try to hold on on the horse you get all remote and I feel like you're avoiding me. I just want to..."

"Why did you kiss me this afternoon, Buffy?" His voice was taut and low, his eyes delving into her looking for any kind of answer to his confusion.

She had been considering this question in the back of her mind ever since they stopped, and what she would tell him when he asked. Not if, but when, and how could you explain such a flash of insight? The tone in his voice convinced her that his reserve was the only thing that would hold them back after her declaration, not that he would take it poorly.

Her reply trickled into his ear, "Because I was frightened." He started and her fleet finger pressed against his lips as she continued. "Because I had a revelation. Because this is a strange place, and I'm having strange feelings, and I think I'm falling in love with you. Or always have been and just realized it. I don't know."

The water rushing past rocks mingled with her declaration and he closed his eyes to just drink in the sound. Her feather light touch circled making him gasp but he held on to his belief that he was dreaming. "You have the softest lips I've ever touched," she whispered.

She sat back on her heels. His look of surprise and confusion was priceless, the way his forehead wrinkled just so. A stiff breeze would likely have knocked him over at that moment. She smiled a lazy smile and quipped, "Besides, you already 'rode' me this afternoon, which should count for something."

He smirked in response, "Well that was a rather come hither glare you gave me. I wouldn't want to argue with a Slayer that had sharp hooves to hit me with, now would I?"

They both giggled. She watched in amazement at the lines that showed up when he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled and then smoothed as the laughter subsided. At the quiet she sobered a little. Had she been wrong? Did this mean he didn't like the kiss? Buffy broke the silence hesitantly, "If it was not of the good, then…"

"It was of the good," he interrupted gently. "I'm just… Buffy, I'd rather you not tease me if you are not serious and are going to chalk this up to… comfort in a strange place when this is over." He looked down at his folded fingers, his voice shaking slightly. "Because I'm afraid my feelings go a bit deeper than that."

Without warning she launched herself at Giles, tackling him to the ground and sending them both into a sprawl with her on top. He looked around to see what new horror had beset upon them, to have Buffy whisper in his ear, "That is so not going to happen, Share Guy." She immediately set upon his earlobe, rolling it around on her tongue and lightly scraping it with her teeth.

His breath became ragged in the onslaught on one of his most sensitive spots. The feeling of warmth and thickness built in his abdomen as her fingers started to probe underneath his jerkin in search of his nipples. "B-Buffy…" he gasped.

"Mmmmm?" she purred into his ear, not letting go of something that so totally made him go practically non-verbal.

After a moment, he finally formulated a sentence, his tongue tangling around the words, "Are you sure that right here and now is the right time?"

She pulled back to look him direct in the eye so there would be no mistaking, "I'm sure sure. Who knows when we're going to have another night as beautiful as tonight." No mention was needed about how complicated things might be when they got home again. Her eyes watered and threatened to spill as she moved back down to whisper in his ear, "Please. Let me love you."

His hands snaked up to her face, wiped away a stray tear, and then pulled her close. His kiss was slow and thorough, as if he were reading her cover to cover. When he reached the end, he rumbled, "Then tonight best last, don't you think, luv?" His fingers traced lazy spirals and curly cues down her back.

Her throaty chuckle bubbled forth, "Let's pretend we have all the time in the world."

When he hit a particularly ticklish spot, she gasped, causing her to thrust her hips slightly. "Mmmm," he groaned. "A fabulous idea."

Her hands deftly unlaced his jerkin and slipped it down his arms to allow him to wriggle out of it. She had to let him sit up to remove shirt as well. With the change in position, he took the advantage to slip her chemise up and flip her light form onto her back. As she wriggled out of the shift, he started to draw the same light lazy spirals on her stomach, watching her intently the whole time for every little twitch and gasp. He kept a sedate pace as he created new patterns in kisses, his hands grazing her sides. He'd deviate towards her breasts or grace the edge of her pubic hair, but mostly he was intent on her belly and watching the tender twitches he could elicit as her breathing roughened.

From there, he moved south, kissing her knees and caressing her ankles and shins. Inch by inch he explored upward until he was breathing on and in the intoxicating scent of her sex. A light bite at the top of her pubic hair combined with his fingernails raking up the inside of her thighs, and she gasped in delight. Each trail was a path of warmth pointing directly toward her center.

He moved his lips up to her ear to whisper hotly, "So, I've started my research, and I'm finding the subject fascinating. But…" His fingertip traced a path around her breast and meandered down to her pubic hair to just miss her clit. She whimpered and squirmed, but he deftly avoided the contact she was trying for. "You see, I'm at an impasse. I don't know which theme to pursue. I have so many interests. Do you perhaps have any recommendations?"

Slyly she looked at him, a smile spreading across her face. With a feral growl, she flipped him on his back and crept towards the bulge in his breeches while at the same time presented herself to him. His hands ran up and down the sides of her buttocks as she pushed aside his breeches to swallow his cock. He let out a strangled moan and gripped her ass. A slight wiggle of her butt and he awoke from his reverie of sensation, making him laugh at her obvious demand. "Wanton hussy," he teased, and received an indignant wiggle as punctuation.

He started his spiral inward at the edges of her folds, driving her mad with his dancing tongue. Giles most certainly treated her lower lips to the same thoroughness as her mouth. As she shuddered at intermittent flicks of the tongue, she pulled away slightly from his cock to really study it. He was fully erect and twitched at the loss of her mouth engulfing him. Concentrating on what she was doing was difficult, but Buffy kept at her observation at the way the foreskin moved as her hand pumped up and down. "I swear, cocks are the oddest looking things. Neat, but odd looking," she murmured before she licked up one side and then focused on the tip. Giles shuddered at the sudden warmth and wetness, causing him to brush against her clit for the first time. She gave a guttural moan as she clenched at his teasing.

Study time was over; she needed to taste him again. With a deep breath of his scent, she took him back in just as his tongue plunged inside her. They simultaneously groaned into each other, vibrating in pleasure together. Buffy started to fondle his balls, occasionally even stroking behind them as their movement mesmerized her. They were almost poetic in their rhythmic rise and fall, when she could see them; Giles' ministrations forced her to close her eyes every few moments as he coaxed her arousal higher. Wild mewls of joy escaped her lips. His hands had started their wandering path again, bringing that erotic energy to the rest of her body.

And then he flicked her bud at the end of his long licks. His cock dropped from her mouth as she moaned and writhed. He thrust into the hand that was idly holding him, searching for more sensation. Buffy tried her best to keep sucking, but every kiss drove her further to distraction until she hit that plateau of incredible pleasure and yearning. "Oh, God, please… something… I need to..." she pleaded. And he stopped. She growled in frustration. "Goddamn it. Please… I need to, you've… uhn…" she squirmed, and she felt his smile even as he avoided the touch that would send her over.

This was too much. If he was going to hold out on her, she was going to drive him nuts until he gave her what she wanted. She attacked his straining cock with new vigor. She kept her fingers wrapped around his balls as she swallowed him. She backed off as he thrust, and each time his pants got louder, she stilled. Even as he kept a lazy pace with her labia enough to kept her on the edge with the added rumble of his voice, his panting had turned to growling at his frustrated pleasure.

One final push to his perineum, and he went over, his orgasm so overwhelming that he stopped his feasting on Buffy. With a long and echoing moan, he spilled himself into her eager mouth. She continued, however, on his now super sensitive cock, causing ripples of intensity to rush through him at every engulfment. "B-Buffy, please. I yield. You win."

"No. I don't." In the pause she took to speak, he took the hint.

Before she could set herself to torturing him some more, he wrapped his lips around her hood and started to suck. The wave of pleasure washed over her so fully that, while it felt like an eternity, she had started to come almost immediately. She felt all her boundaries fall away with every gasping breath. Her whole body shook as her core pulsed rapidly, and eventually she fell limp on top of him, spent.

At first she never wanted to move again. Then she decided better; she turned around so she lay on top of him, slipping his slightly softened, but clean, cock inside of her. They were both gasping with aftershocks, but then she settled down, her head on his chest. "Do you want more?" he asked; there was a slight tone of incredulity after the ferocity of both their orgasms.

She kissed him, their tastes mingling. "No, I just wanted to feel you inside me. In case." He nodded, and started to stroke her sweat-dampened hair, reveling just in the feel of her slick naked skin all along his body. Her fingers tangled in his chest hair. "Can we fall asleep like this?"

She shifted her slightly so that her hip bone was no longer digging into him in that one spot and then whispered, "Anything, luv. 'Sweet is the sleep of hand to hand. Sweeter still the sleep of heart to heart.'"

"That's beautiful. Where is that from?"

"It's Sumerian actually. From one of the poems of Inanna and Dumuzi."

"Pretty. I like heart to heart." One hand still trailed through her hair. She was struggling to stay awake, but with a final nuzzle she gave up the fight. Her murmur shrank towards slumber. "Love you. Doesn't sound strange anymore."

He didn't know what to say. All he could do was watch her as she fell asleep in his arms, his fingers sensuously tracing unseen lines up and down her back. Her perfect breasts rising and falling towards him. She slept the best she had since they arrived. In the beauty of the afterglow, however, he couldn't sleep for a very, very long time. He would savor every moment.


	9. Feet Made No Din

She shivered on top of him in the cool morning breeze. The sounds were distant at first, muffled by the mist that filtered the early sun. An extra trickle by the waterfall alerted him as he drifted to consciousness. His slight stirring awakened Buffy, sending her to assess their surroundings. A glimpse through the mist, he thought he saw something vaguely stag-shaped. Buffy was on her bow the moment his eyes were caught by the Stag's glowing red eyes. Just as the Stag began to slip back into the mist, Buffy's arrow let loose, striking the Stag in his hindquarters.

The bellow rippled and changed to an unearthly howl. With another arrow notched and aimed, everything slowed for a moment. The sound rumbled low as it echoed through the valley and mingled with Giles' cry to Buffy to stop.

Giles found himself at the far edge of the ford at the river by the time the howl had lowered to a whimper. On the ground lay a man in flowing white clothing, a blotch of red as bright as his eyes growing on his thigh. Quick assessment showed that the arrow could be removed, but he could not spare the man pain. To his credit, the man let out only a short sharp yell as the arrow was wrenched from his thigh, and Giles set to bandaging the wound.

"Giles, what the hell? We're supposed to bring back the…man? Whoah." Buffy ran up to the two men, expecting to see a man and stag. Her bow fell quietly to the ground.

Hands clenched into the grass, his voice like faltering bells when he finally spoke. "Ash, you really are a ripe old bastard." The man's eyes glowed until the wound was tended. Finally they faded to a pale blue as he watched the Slayer with a frightened and accusing stare.

Giles chuckled ruefully as he finished tying up the makeshift bandage made from the rags the unknown man wore. "You really have put Her Grace out this time, Brynn, and as far as I'm concerned you have Her to blame for this mishap."

"God, Giles, is there anyone in this world that you don't know already? And you could have warned me that I was going to be shooting a person when I… "

Giles turned his steady gaze towards her. He made the warning quite apparent and she stumbled into silence. "Buffy, I'd like you to meet the Consort."

She threw up her hands. "Well, then, Consort. Wasn't there a little more you could have told me about this adventure?" He glared at her until she pouted her way through a curtsey and mumbled "Sir." That was when she noticed that they were still naked. She eeped, and ran back to their supplies to get some clothes for herself and Giles.

Giles kept his voice unnaturally even as he called out after her, the strain of Buffy's exasperation and the endangerment of his friend weighing heavily upon him, as he defended himself. "How was I supposed to know that we weren't hunting Arthur's stag, or Arawn's stag, or even one of Herne's vast herd? As if it's a unique disguise and we had limited time. And primarily, these kingdoms have a tendency to blur together when you aren't looking. And you," he turned to Brynn, "You could have said something to us sooner."

Brynn's tone was cold and uninviting as he continued his accusations, though His breathing was finally returning to normal. "You know better than to hunt quarry now. You should not be here."

"It would have all fallen back on Her Grace. If she wants unbalance the herds before the Ride, on her head be it. She can go off and argue with Herne or whomever, and bugger all else. We're here, we want to go home, and bringing you back was our price. Had I known…"

Buffy returned with a chemise tossed on, breeches and a shirt for Giles in hand. Brynn's eyes narrowed at her presence, his lips in a thin line. No longer did his voice sound of bells; it was just the cold sharp edge of a blade. "I have three days left and I never am late. Though I may be now after your carelessness. I cannot shift in this state. I rather abhor the state of being hunted."

Giles spared a quick glance at Buffy, whose arms were crossed in defensiveness. Quickly he dressed as he spoke. "Our apologies, Milord. Had there been another way, and had we been better informed, we would have handled things differently."

A slender eyebrow cocked as Brynn looked in annoyance. "Would you now? You mean you had not planned a seductive tongue to save you from Court? That was never your style, Ash."

Buffy's eyes were wide at the implication, and Giles hastened to correct the ideas that seemed to be bubbling up in her, "He means I was good at persuading, Buffy."

"Oh." She looked very uncomfortable talking there along those lines. Mornings after were supposed to be afterglowy, not filled with barbs from other people. His eyes pleaded to let it drop, if only for now, so she did.

"In any case, I suspect that since you expect to have your price fulfilled, I must go back with you, or you'll set your Slayer on me again."

"He didn't set me on anything."

He thoroughly ignored Buffy. "Regardless, I suppose it is a good enough time as any to go back. There are friends I wish to see before the Ride." The emphasis on friends was readily apparent as he looked at Giles.

A sharp whistle, and three horses appeared. As they gathered up their belongings, Brynn gingerly mounted the white horse that had arrived. Giles' eyes met Brynn's and then he understood why they had been hunting him. He mounted his brown horse a little shakily and then held his hand out to Buffy. She took the hint that she was to stay close, and mounted behind him instead of taking her own horse, and they headed west.

For the entire trip, Brynn would not go near Buffy, instead always keeping Giles between them. Even when He chattered never addressed her. The more the Consort spoke, the more restless Buffy became. His eyes never left her. It wasn't until later that Giles realized that He never blinked, as if that were too long to keep his eyes off the Slayer for the entire two-day trek back to Court.

****

Something about the movement of Court made the whole scene seem wilder than when they left. Gone only a week and a half, the courtiers seemed much less clothed and much more feral in their relations. It was as if they had been drinking non-stop since the night they left and working themselves into some sort of frenzy. The Queen watched to one side as they entered. She noticed immediately her Consort's arrival with Buffy and Giles slightly behind him, though She waited for Him to wind His way toward Her. At the end of his approach, they danced without moving, word to word, in their offhanded predatory fashion.

"You're back early."

"I had little choice."

"You could have led them around a bit longer."

"Perhaps the wind blew too cold."

She moved to touch Him and Brynn winced. It was then that She noticed the limp and the rapidly healing wound in His side. Her eyes flicked towards Buffy and Giles, anger glowing from within. Celebratory wine in their hands, they waited for their moment to ask the way home. That cruel smile curled open once again. "You have insulted me. I demand another price, if you are ever to leave, in exchange for spilling his blood and drinking my wine without permission upon returning."

"You've got to be kidding me! It was an accident!" Buffy yelled as she lunged toward the Queen. Giles grasped her hand well enough to get dragged a foot until Buffy stopped to look at him.

A swift breeze cooled the air whence next She spoke. "Be that as it may, I reserve a price, and you shall not leave until due course. The wine you had leave only until your return. That alone should bind you here indefinitely." They both shivered with the understanding under the hostess like gesture of the Queen. "But please, continue. It will no longer alter your standing."

Buffy stood there dumbfounded, the wine spilled at her feet. Gently, Giles placed his hand upon her shoulder and whispered in her ear. "We'll…. We'll think of something. Leave it be for now, She's upset."

****

She waited. Eventually Court progressed to bacchanal stages again until the Queen was alone. Prying eyes focused on the feast instead. Giles was off talking with Brynn, doing her best to implore the Consort to stand up to his queen, and convince Her to let them go anyway. Slipping amongst the crowd, Buffy knocked out the one guard keeping watch and stood hidden behind her, a small dagger pressed against the Queen's throat. "I have this theory that Slayers aren't liked here because we can actually do some damage to you. I'm not sure how, but I'm running short on time and patience right about now. Now, you will release us and tell us how to get home. I have a universe to save."

Sadness dulled the Queen's eyes as She looked over Court. "I know. But you cannot kill me."

The blade pressed a little closer to the Queen's jugular. "Vein's looking pretty pulsey to me, and you're not human so I think it just might be alright."

"Technically you could, but then you would never be free." Her demeanor was slow and deliberate. Clenched fists were the only indication of tension, her eyes frantically searching for an answer. The blade lightened only a little, but did not waver from its position. "I was once Tatiana, though I could not tell you when. I don't really remember what it was like before I became Queen. My mortality burned away after my first Ride. Good riddance I thought after the kill. All one needs is to pay the tithe to keep this world and oneself from disappearing, and feasting and fecundity abounds. The cycle ever unbroken."

"Wait, you mean I kill you, I become Queen? That has got to be the lamest lie I've heard in a while."

The Queen turned to face her, the slits of her eyes narrow with pain. "There will always be a Queen, and you do not want to be next." The chill in her voice was not directed toward Buffy, but was apparent nonetheless, before her voice took on a sad whimsical tone. "Besides I have grown rather fond of being Queen. I am bound, though. I *cannot* free you without a further price."

"Still, you get off on having that price be as pricey as you can get paid."

"Not always. If your name did not suit you so well, Poplar. But a price is a price you must be willing to pay for it to be worth anything at all. You have one waiting for you elsewhere, and there is no price I could take that would be suitable." Even though She was only acting in her best interests, She did seem to be truly sorry for Buffy.

Lightning quick, Her demeanor changed to what almost seemed to be forced gaiety and Her voice carrying over the sound of the party and through the forest, "I've decided a price! Ash, you both will be free for a song! And when you are done, you will leave by the Gate at the edge of the eastern forest by sunrise."

Obvious relief washed over his body at the price, only to be replaced by performance anxiety. The party calmed down as everyone turned toward him, and Buffy crept to a stump to sit and watch. When he opened his mouth, however, liquid notes poured from his voice, hauntingly beautiful in their timber. Buffy couldn't understand a word. It didn't matter, however as she rode the waves and let the notes carry her through its peaks and valleys.

It seemed that the echoes of the song were still floating around the room when she found Giles standing next to her looking perplexed. She did not harsh words to interfere with the remnants of the lingering tune, but she could merely contain herself to a whisper. "Giles, that was… incredible. What was it?"

He blushed at the compliment. "I-I didn't actually choose it, I just… sang. Perhaps the Queen decided she wanted to hear it, though I wonder why the Queen would want She Move Through the Fair. It really is a rather morbid love song." He hadn't intended to sing that? He didn't intend to sound amazing?

A flash caught both their eyes, drawing their attention to the Royal couple. The Queen held the dagger Buffy had threatened her with only minutes before against Brynn's throat. They were looking into each other's eyes as she slashed His throat. Both Consort and Queen fell to the ground as blood stained Her dress, changing the leaves from summer green to autumn scarlet. Buffy froze as she caught the Queen's unblinking gaze. In the moment before She unleashed a banshee keening, Giles watched Buffy as the force of the action struck home. Several jerky movements showed she obviously wanted to attack the Queen for this seemingly needless violence, but could not bring herself to move.

"Buffy, it's time to go," he said gently, mourning coloring his voice

"But Brynn…"

The Consort rose again, paler than before; The Queen continued Her sobbing, alternating with deep draughts of wine. Through it all, Giles' voice penetrated Buffy's shocked haze. "He is slain, he rises, he is reborn. I've witnessed it multiple times while I was here. The rules are different in Faery, Buffy. He is not dead, just, well, translated."

The tears in her eyes bore testament to her disbelief. She wanted to rage at Giles, ask him if he knew this was supposed to happen, and how dare he go along with it. How dare he accept what a strange and terrible place it was where this would be required. She wanted to until Brynn's peaceful eyes slipped past Giles and looked her full in the face. Her voice sounded small and hollow in her understanding, "It is his sacrifice to give, and hers to take, isn't it?"

He nodded and placed a hand at her elbow. "Come on. The Ride will start soon." He pulled her along to the edge of the party.

Linden stopped them and obviously pulled himself to his most linear for them, "Towards the morning sun. I'm sorry you will not Ride. Be swift." As they moved, Linden's hand stayed Giles for a moment longer as he whispered gravely for Giles alone, "Poplar breaks in heavy storms."

Giles looked Linden in the eyes, realizing that was all he could be told. And they stole away into the forest. They ran most of the rest of the night; the pure physicality was the only thing that kept Buffy from ruminating on events of the night.

When they arrived at the hawthorn grove at the edge of the forest, they finally slowed. Various faeries seemed to already know why they were there, and were busily removing the glamour that hid the Gate from view. The sky in the east lightened, even though they understood that had little bearing on when the sun would actually rise. Giles looked around sadly as the soft sound of bells rolled on the breeze.

Buffy paused next to him and stared at the Gate. Uneasy, she looked at Giles. "What's going to happen when we step through the Gate?"

Slowly, he lowered his eyes to her, the back of his hand caressing her cheek. "We'll go back to our lives."

"Will we remember?"

"I think so. I have no guarantees though."

Were Giles' eyes really this green back home? She stood there stunned by him, as they looked at each other, scared to take those final steps or ruin the moment.

The sky lightened noticeably, however, and Giles took the initiative. At least to break the silence, "I'm not really one for the drawn out and sappy goodbye, luv. Even if it's just a possibility. "

She smiled, knowing she was the same way. "We'll go for simplicity then," and she kissed him softly. "It'll have to be good enough," she said as she grabbed his hand. One last look and they stepped through together.


	10. Where You and I Must Dwell

She opened the dusty window of the rented SUV to get a better look at the night sky as they drove home. As she expected, the stars were not visibly moving as she watched, though it was no less beautiful. But the patterns Buffy saw were not the ones that she remembered from the last time she actually looked at the night sky. Different, but the same.

She was disappointed but not surprised to find they were not in the forest near Sunnydale. Jeans and t-shirts while not what either of them usually wore, at least it didn't scream fashion victim in the middle of the park they found themselves in. It wasn't long before they found a phone, a taxi, and then a rental car place. They took off immediately, and once they hit Interstate 5, the drive was expected to be uneventful if long. The conversation had not had much time to develop beyond which way to go now, and deciding that they were not going to split the driving. So they sat in silence, focusing out the windows, Giles humming to himself.

Her memories of their time Underhill were like an out of focus photograph. She remembered, but the details were blurry. At least there was enough that when they found themselves in the midst of an oak grove, there was no wondering why. The stars were perfectly still while they moved at breakneck speed to get back home before sunrise.

She rolled the window back up a bit so they could talk. Enough of the air got in to ruffle their hair as it whirled around the truck. "Giles?"

His soft humming stopped, though his eyes never left the road. "Yes?"

"What happened back there?"

She thought his hands gripped the steering wheel before he answered, though it was admittedly dark in the car. "Do… do you not remember anything?"

"That's just it, I do, and it doesn't make any sense. Why did She do that? I mean, what exactly happened to Brynn?"

His grip relaxed a bit, and he took a deep breath, though she was sure his eyes looked a little glassy as he continued to watch the road. "Ah. Well. Living metaphor, perhaps? Some sort of ritualized sacrifice is needed for their existence to continue. When it isn't a seven year king, The Consort stands in. For a few years at least before they must have a king. Or perhaps it is beyond our understanding the things that some must do for the good of their world." His eyes darted a glance at her only to look back at the road when he saw her watching him.

Buffy was silent for a bit more. Few cars were on the road, and that suited her just fine. They had their little cocoon of just them for a little while longer before life caught back up to them. Now that they were rushing back to all that different chaos Buffy wanted to extend her time just a little longer, but Dawn would wonder if they were gone more than all night. She was supposedly still patrolling.

"So what do we do?"

"Buffy, I'm not sure there is anything we can do, unless you're going to take out an entire dimension, which likely would not even work..."

"I mean about us."

He paused, and he looked at her, and he saw her immutable green eyes still watching him. She could have fallen into his eyes in that moment, but he had to reluctantly turn back to the road.

"Oh."

"Giles," she saw the flinch he tried to hide. Though she said the name with affection, she realized it was still a way to distance herself from him. "I don't regret anything. And I don't want to leave it behind."

"But…"

"But nothing. I just wanted to say I don't think we're going to be able to go on a date until after this is all over. Pure life getting in the way. Unless, you regret…."

"Never. I… I understand though." His eyes closed briefly and actively relaxed his hands on the wheel. She had to touch him, reassure him.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to kiss his cheek, slowly move towards the edge of his mouth. He seemed surprised, but did his best to not get distract him. "I'm not a one night stand kind of girl, British Guy. You don't have to worry about that. I love you. I just don't want to disappoint you. Even if it's going to take major getting used to if you want me to call you Rupert instead."

At his sideways look, Buffy turned on one of her brilliant smiles. Soon he was grinning as well. "Never," he whispered and kissed her forehead.

"Never disappoint or never start calling you Rupert?"

His grin was infectious. "Yes."

She nodded her head in agreement and wrapped his right arm around her. "So, one hell god destroyed and then one date, coming up. I can almost feel optimistic about that first part."

She paused, and fiddled with the radio to put some late-night ambient music on low. She looked up to see if Giles would react and was a little disappointed that he didn't. Then it occurred to her. "The least they could have done was give me back my coat though when they sent us back. I loved that coat."

He chuckled, "Well maybe if you make an offering to the clothing faeries, you'll get a new one."

She perked up at the idea. "You think that will work?"

His easy teasing grin lit up the car. "No, but it's certain worth a try." She punched him lightly, and settled back down into happy non-thoughts that would drift into hopefully an undisturbed sleep. Just for tonight. Just one more night where she was shielded from demons and she could rest in happy non-thoughts as they sped homeward under a slowly changing sky.


End file.
